SH3: Beyond the Edge of Reason
by BetweenheavenandHell
Summary: As stated above, an attempt to novelise SH3
1. Prologue: Fog

**Silent Hill: _Beyond The Edge Of Reason_**

NB: SH3 opening, does not hold true to game in entirety, it has been re-worked to better suit the novel format

Prologue

Round and around and around, round they went. Spinning with artificial elegance on their preset path, with no one to view their grace. Each wooden horse bounced lightly as it danced to the tinkling music that filled the air, but something was wrong. The music sounded distant, to highly pitched giving the playful tune a vaguely sinister air, perhaps the pipes where clogged, the ride certainly hadn't been serviced in a while. The horses were covered in ancient dustsheets, sheets that had only partially protected the absorbent wood from the blood that coated the rest of the ride like thick red paint. Rust covered steel where crimson stains failed to prevail, causing a low grinding, just audible beneath the faltering scream of the carousel as it spun its lazy pirouette. It was then that she became aware, then that she realised that she cold felt the artic tang of the cold air, felt the pain caused by the carousel's grinding motion, saw the rising mist rise up to block her view and tug at her with fingers of ice, dragging her further into the dream… it was a dream wasn't, it had to be… and yet. Slithers of glass ran down her spine, her cries making the fog grow denser and then… it vanished, and she found herself standing before large stone arch. No, not stone, it was made from many bricks interlocking together and it wasn't just an arch it was a tunnel. There was something above the arch, a sign of some sort, but when she looked up the fog rusted back to surround her, just as it did when she thought of going back, attempting to leave this place.

Suddenly the tunnel rushed forward, engulfing her like the maw of some terrible beast. She would have screamed if she had a mouth, but she was just a presence, trapped in the cold, damp mist of unreality. Each moment elongated, blurring into the next in a dizzying kaleidoscope of pain and confusion until… it was gone. The mist, the tunnel everything gone and she was left, trapped in the obliterating white of inexistence, sustained and defined solely by her suffering, and then, what might have been a second or an eternity later, the world rushed back in, shattering the fog before it could embrace her. Air, cool and crisp, rushed into her lungs. _Lungs?_, yes that was right, people needed air to live, and lungs to take in the life giving gases. Her arms and legs tingled and pimpled under the cold airs harsh treatment, reminding her that they needed to be moved to stay warm. _A body? I have a body?_ Try as she might she couldn't recall why this surprised her, of course she had a body, didn't everyone? A violent shiver shook her body, reminding her of her rather Spartan attire. A sleeveless orange polo-neck top covered by a sleeveless padded white flannel jacket and a racy brown miniskirt emphasised her slim, almost bony physique and knee high leather boots completed the ensemble. Relatively flattering in a trailer trash kind of way, but not very practical in the face of this cold. So why was she wearing it? A new scent drifted in with her second breath, the smell of decay, quickly banishing such trivial thoughts from her mind. Gradually her attention turned outwards and the world around her came into focus. Broken stalls, covered in grime, splintered supports clawing jaggedly for release from their torment lay everywhere, and lying on the bench in from of her, the mouth of what she assumed must have been part of some sort of mascot costume covered in blood, was the source of the smell. Gasping she stepped back in alarm, her boots echoing on the strange steel grate that had been used as a platform over the gaping dark pit beneath her feet. The mascot was in the image of a giant pink rabbit in comically oversized red dungarees, the name Robbie Rabbit emblazoned on the pocket underneath the words _Lakeside Amusement Park_ written in cursive. The getup may have seemed funny if not for the splattering of crimson fluid that plastered the mouth and front of the mascot as if the man inside had been torn apart inside his costume or perhaps he had… There was a low growl in the distance and she spun with a yelp. She scanned the area furtively, but no danger leapt from amongst the coloured rags and shattered booths to assail her. The growl faded and was replaced by a faint tinkling, like a bell gently struck, carousel music. The tune called to her, enchanting her even as the memory of the guttural growl that had preceded it filled her with an inexplicable fear. She had to find that sound. Clambering over the debris around her, scratching thin red lines on her arms and legs, she scrambled onward, doing her best to ignore the lumps of discoloured flesh that poked grimly out of the rubble, as if to guide her. Blind to her own nausea she struggled on, the music drawing greater speed out of her than she believed she was capable of, something important hinged on her getting to its source in time. The rubble eventually gave way and her boots rang hollowly in the unnatural silence as she ran across the steel grate. Stalls, rides, old and broken, long devoid of the joy and raucous laughter that should have surrounded them, flashed by on either side, all seeming inexplicably sinister in their solitude.

The closer she got to the sound, the greater her sense of unreality became, as if the fog was trying to keep her from a great treasure. Her legs became harder to feel, more sluggish.

In the distance the carousel began to rise, lifted up on tethers of mist and dream and out of her reach.

Desperate now she searched for a way up to her goal. There was an old rollercoaster ride, it's dangerously decayed track running past the floating carousel. She flew up the stairs, knowing she didn't have much time left, the fog was back, eating her existence, cutting her off from the body she needed to be whole again, to reach her goal.

Rebellious limbs carried her onto the track and she staggered in the direction of the ride.

As she got closer she could see the outline of a young woman, her thick black hair slicked to her skull, reaching out to her, like she was embracing a long lost relative, but her face was etched with fear.

"Who are you?", she shouted at the girl

"You shouldn't be here, she'll find you/us", the girl answered in a strange, echoing voice, "leave"

"Where am I?"

"Leave"

"Wha-", lights blinded her as something struck her at incredible speed, shattering her body and returning her to the cold embrace of the fog…

Author notes: Prologue complete, thanks to those who have/will review, the next chapter will be finished shortly, please bare with me on matters of paragraphs etc, I'm still adjusting to the setup on this sight


	2. Chapter 1: Waking from the Dream?

Chapter 1: Waking from the dream?

Happy Burger. Such an assuming name really, a deceptively simple boast of the owners belief in his store. Perhaps if anyone had been there to appreciate the irony of the empty restaurant, it might of made the name less of a lie…

There was only one person currently occupying the restaurant, even the staff had departed without realising they had left someone behind, for she was tucked into a booth in the darkest corner, illuminated only by the fading sunlight that squeezed its way through the blinds, her head pillowed on her arms as she tossed fitfully in her sleep.

Her dirty blond hair hung across her face, plastered there at odd angles by fevered sweat and curving out away from her head at the tips.

* * *

The girl, Heather, let out a startled gasp and sat up so suddenly she almost cracked her skull on the poorly padded seat of the booth. She looked around wildly, unable to understand either her fear or her surroundings as her mind made the reluctant transition from asleep to awake.

Eventually the haze faded, taking the last lingering residues of the dream with it, and with that her breathing resumed its normal pace and in time, she didn't even remember what had roused her.

Something bounced lightly against her chest as she shifted into a better position and she looked down to find the gold pendant, a gift from her father, swaying lightly on the outside of her padded white flannel jacket. She cradled it carefully, her father had been very insistent that she carry it everywhere, and she loved him enough to take that to heart despite the strangeness of the request.

Heather slipped it back into her jacket and levered herself out of the seat, walking carefully over the recently mopped floor and out of the door.

The mall outside was practically deserted, many of the shutters had been drawn on the more popular shops, meaning that it was probably near closing time.

Heather shook her head in annoyance, she had only meant to stop in for a burger before going back to the shops to pick up the items that had caught her eye on what her friends would call, "The scouting run". She hadn't even really been that tired, but from the looks of it she'd been out for hours. That meant the shop she was supposed to collect her dad's order from was probably closed too.

She groaned and kicked at a piece of trash not yet collected by the mall's army of custodians. There was nothing left to do but call up her father and tell him what had happened before heading home.

* * *

Finding a telephone and eventually fishing the correct change out of her pocket, being careful not to disturb the pocket knife she had hidden there in case of an emergency, she dialled the number for her apartment.

There had barely been three rings before the receiver was snatched off the hook at the other end and the panicked voice of Harry Mason, came over the line.

"Hello! Heather, is that you?"

"Yeah dad", she said with a poorly suppressed giggle, her father always worried to much, "It's me… um, I kinda didn't get that thing you wanted…"

She waited for her father's endless stream of reassurances to end.

"Ok… Yeah, I'm coming home now… I love you too dad…"

She shook her head ruefully as she hung up, sometimes her father was loving to the point it was weird.

As she looked up her smile died.

* * *

Standing with his back to the wall, was an old man, his rough white stubble, making his already shabby face look even seedier. He was dressed like a Private Eye reject from the fifties, although his clothes were rumpled and the slight paunch of his belly had pushed his shirt halfway out of his trousers.

Heather feigned nonchalance, and gestured to the phone to hide her almost instant suspicion. This guy was after something she was sure, and she didn't want to hang around long enough to find out if it was her.

The old man shook his head minutely and fixed her with a piercing gaze.

Heather flipped her head dismissively and walked away, trying her best not to look back, even though she could imagine his eyes boring into her back.

She glanced over her shoulder as she rounded a corner, he was following her.

She tried not to panic, tried to recall what they had told her to do at school if you thought you were being followed by someone who meant you harm. She drew in breath to scream when he suddenly spoke.

"Heather? Heather Mason?", he asked, his voice was rough, but not unkind, and there was enough authority that it made her stop and face him.

"Who wants to know", she said scrutinizing him, her father's old paranoid stories and sudden moves surging to the forefront of her mind for some reason.

"There is… someone who wants to meet you…"

'Yeah right, like I'm gonna fall for that pervert', she thought.

"I'm a private detective, I-"

"Not interested", she cut him off, turning and walking off at a brisk pace as he made to follow. Up ahead she spotted a way out.

"If I could just have ten minutes of your time, no five-"

"Are you still following me?", she asked, pointing at the door to the ladies room, "Do I have to scream?"

He held up his hands palms outward and gestured to the floor beneath him, "No, no, I'll wait here".

Heather tilted her chin imperiously and strode in, aware as the door closed that if he really was a pervert, an empty bathroom was the perfect place for him to have his way with her out of sight, and the room was empty this close to closing time.

* * *

She waited to the count of ten, her eyes never leaving the door, but he still didn't come through. Sighing with relief she didn't really feel, Heather walked over to the nearest sink and splashed her face liberally with water.

When she looked up, her face still dripping, she noticed that something had been painted onto one of the mirrors with lipstick. It was a strange circular motif, centred around a triangle and what might have been an eye, strange runes surrounding the circumference of the circle.

As she lent over for a closer look, pain flared through her brain in a thousand icy needles, dropping her to her knees before the symbol.

As soon as she wrenched her eyes away, the pain stopped, vanishing altogether. Careful to avoid looking at it again, she stood on suddenly weak limbs.

She felt she had seen that symbol before, but where?

_It was on the altar…_, a voice in her head, her own? Whispered, and Heather could almost see the symbol again, woven with great care onto the cloth that had covered the altar.

'Wait", she thought, "What altar?'

* * *

Having reached her 'freak out' quota for the day, Heather made to leave, but stopped just short of the door, and crouched down so that she could see outside.

The old detective, if that's what he was, was still there, pacing back and forth impatiently. She didn't want to stay in this bathroom all night with that strange symbol, but neither did she want to go anywhere with that freak, as he would probably try to force her to.

Looking around the bathroom she found a small window, easily big enough for someone her size to climb through, leading out into the service alleys at the back of the mall.

After a couple of false starts she was able to lift herself through, feeling slightly exhilarated despite herself, she was fleeing a potential pervert by climbing through a window and escaping into the alleyways. It was almost like something out of a movie and that thought held at bay her worries about her stalker and the evil drawing that had somehow hurt her, allowing her to almost enjoy the experience.

She hopped down onto an over turned crate and looked around to get her bearings before starting up the alleyway towards the only door she could see.

* * *

Her boots rang hollowly on the concrete, sounding abnormally loud. It took Heather a moment to figure out why she was making such a racket. It was because there were none of the other sounds that would normally obscure the _clomp clomp_ of her boots, in fact, there were no other sounds at all…

Surely that wasn't possible. Even if the mall was completely empty, she should still be able to hear the cars on the highway, the drone of the machines in the industrial park nearby.

Fear began to work its way back into her gut, taking away her childish amusement at her current situation, and casting everything in a much more sinister light.

She hurried the last few paces to the door, and slipped quickly inside. The silence inside was just as complete as that outside, and just as deafening. To her horror, the feeling of being exposed didn't fade when she closed the door; it remained at the back of her mind, and as an icy presence in her gut.

Heather hurried from room to room, finding each one either abandoned or locked.

She ran down the staff service corridors trying every door that might lead out, but all were locked. Just when she felt her panic beginning to rise, the door she tried next swung silently open, allowing her blissfully out of the confinement of the service corridors… and into that of the clothing section.

* * *

Heather had spent enough time here that she knew which shops were which, even with the shutters closed, but she hardly spared them a glance, the thick shutter that cut off the alcove housing all of these shops from the rest of the mall, starred back at her with inanimate glee, immovable and mocking.

She began to panic again, suddenly feeling very hot despite her lack over covering, was there no way out? Would she be stuck here in the dark till opening time the next morning?

Heather had had a fear of being alone in the dark for as long as she could remember, she didn't want to stay here unless she had to.

It was then that the small pool of light caught her eye. It came from a shutter only drawn down to waist height, showing that the door of the shop had been left open.

Heather didn't know or care why it had been left unattended, it was her way out, the shop would lead to more service ways, and one of them had to lead out of the mall at some point.

Stooping awkwardly in her mini-skirt, Heather ducked under the barrier, careful not to scrap her back on it as she passed under.

As she was about to stand on the other side, she noticed something gleaming on the floor a few feet away, catching the light in such a way that she felt drawn to it.

Walking slowly over to it she bent to retrieve it, her hand closing around it and lifting it into the light. It was a handgun. Its weight might have meant that it was loaded, but having no experience with firearms she couldn't be sure. Her father was fairly proficient, he was a member of the local gun club and practiced regularly, but he'd never been able to interest her in it.

It was as she was examining the weapon that she noticed the sound. It was like a wet, slurping, tearing sound, and it was accompanied by a smell she felt she should know but couldn't identify.

Heather looked around, her eyes lighting on the source of the noise, and she screamed in terror.

* * *

The thing, and that's what it must be called, because it matched no archetype her struggling brain could find, was vaguely female, even to the point that it seemed to be wearing a dress of burnt plastic, but it was powerfully muscled, each thick, ape like arm almost as wide as its torso, and ending abruptly without hands.

At her scream it stopped what it was doing and turned to face her, allowing her to see the torn corpse it had been feasting on, and the twisted, cone like, travesty of a face that seemed to be just a mouth, and a blob of burnt, cancerous flesh where the rest of its features should have been.

* * *

It stood, and Heather felt her neck wrench as she tried to follow it to quickly. The creature was huge, easily seven foot, its willowy frame and gargantuan arms supported by impossibly spindly legs.

It began advancing without a sound, the long, blood soaked, bone spines that slid out of its arms making its intent perfectly clear, it was going to kill her, and then feast on her as it had the other poor soul who had happened across it.

Heather thought of running, but her legs were wired to the spot and she couldn't move. So she did the only thing she could.

She raised the gun and fired.

"Stay back!" she screamed as the first shot ripped free of the barrel and imbedded itself in the creature's shoulder.

The monster jerked as it was hit, but after a moment continued its advance as if nothing had happened.

"I mean it!", she shouted with a trembling voice, firing again and again with little effect. As the last shot left the chamber she screamed and closed her eyes.

This shot hit higher than the rest, crashing through the creature's 'face' and carrying small chunks of greyish matter with it as it exited the other side.

The abomination took another step, as if even the destruction of its mind couldn't stop it from killing her.

Suddenly it spasmed violently, letting loose a cry of inhuman pain before collapsing with an earth shaking _thud_ at her feet.

Heather scrambled away quickly, while it twitched in its final death throes before falling still.

"What the hell is that thing?", she said, so shaken that she spoke aloud, needing the comfort of her own voice, "…a… a monster?"

It seemed ridiculous spoken out loud, but that was all it could be, its body, its presence, and above all, its smell, provided her senses all the proof they needed.

'What if there are more of them!', she thought suddenly. That might have been the only one, but she didn't want to stick around to find out.

* * *

She quickly made her way out into the service ways again, taking a kind of comfort from their neon lit simplicity. She saw many more strange things, including a kind of giant, skinless fish with legs that jumped out of a supply closet to attack her.

The creature was so pitiful and comical, that she almost didn't consider it a threat, until it knocked her down and tried to tear her face off with the teeth concealed in the puckered maw where it should have had a face.

She managed to get away, and hid in a storage room, where she found a fresh clip for the gun she carried and after a few minutes successfully loaded it.

Thus, armed and sensibly more cautious than when she first set out, Heather made her way slowly down the remainder of the deserted corridors, trying to ignore the silence so thick that it even muted the hum of the lights above her.

When she saw the human silhouette through the double doors ahead of her, she almost wept with relief, pushing them open recklessly and rushing through.

The shadow it turned out, belonged to a woman of middle years, her almost waist length blond hair a shade or two lighter than Heather's, hung limply from her head, and her high collared, buttoned ankle length black coat, wouldn't have been out of place in any Amish village. Her appearance screamed zealot, but Heather would have been happy to see anyone at that moment.

* * *

"Thank god, another human being", she said, panting and resting her hands on her knees until her breath returned, "Do you know what is going on here?"

The woman turned a beatific smile upon seeing her, but it vanished as soon as she spoke.

"You… don't remember me?", she said, her eyes ranging between sad and angry as the same emotions tightened the creases in the corners of her eyes and mouth.

"What, why should I?", Heather said, confused even as she began to pick up on a new vibe from this strange woman, what where the odds of someone waiting here, right where she would be forced to come, after the mall had closed? And what were the odds of that person professing to know her?

"Do you know what's happening?" she asked suspiciously, anger causing her to take a few steps forward, Heather didn't like being kept in the dark, either physically or metaphorically, "Where is everyone? And those weird monsters…"

"They… have come to witness the beginning", the woman said cryptically, her eyes becoming unfocused as if she were somewhere else, "The rebirth of Paradise… despoiled by mankind"

There was such bitter hatred in that last statement that Heather took a step back, "What the hell are you talking about?"

The zealot's eyes focused on her again and Heather shuddered involuntarily, "Remember me… and your True self… the one who will lead us to Paradise… with bloodstained hands".

Heather opened her mouth to ask her what she meant, but fire coursed through her skull dropping her to her knees. She cried out and the pain intensified, icy fingers racking through her stomach in an agonising counter point to the fiery tongues that licked across her brain.

As her vision began to blur, the zealot looked at her quizzically, what might have been concern crossing her features. Suddenly she nodded as is satisfied with what she saw and walked away.

"… Help… please", Heather choked as the pain drove her to the floor, "What's… going on… I, I don't… understand…"

The world was swallowed by darkness, taking her consciousness with it…

* * *

When she eventually struggled back to consciousness, hours or minutes later, there was no trace of the pain that had so crippled her, only a dim and menacing memory that she was only to happy to leave at the back of her mind.

Heather used a wall to help herself upright and wavered on her feet for a second as she felt a rush of vertigo that quickly vanished.

She felt a little groggy but otherwise fine, and so she could find little reason to hang around, especially if that scary woman was still lurking around here. Heather didn't doubt the religious nut was linked to the monsters somehow.

Heather made her way down the rest of the corridor, her strength rapidly returning the further she got from the spot she had collapsed, eventually forced to ascend to the next level when it became clear that it was the only way to go even if it temporarily took her further from her goal.

The corridor ahead of her ended in a small cul-de-sac, multiple doors lining both sides.

Seeing little other way to do it, Heather began a methodical search of the doors, starting with the right-hand doors. Many were locked, and those that weren't… well the bandaged dog with the quartered muzzle she had found tearing into the remains of one of the malls employees, would haunt her nightmares for a while.

She completed her search finding only a series of storage rooms, a spare handgun clip and a bottle of something labelled 'Health drink' next to a packet of old jerky.

She had never been partial to jerky, but felt inexplicably hungry, devouring most of the packet and downing half the health drink to wash away the salty taste.

The first door on the left, at the top of the corridor where she now stood, turned out to be little more than an expanded storage room.

She probably would have left it without looking if she hadn't spotted something glinting on the floor.

Crouching down she looked for the object that had caused the glint, spotting it under a set of heavy crates. She couldn't reach it, and there wasn't anything nearby that would allow her to scoop it up.

Standing up she kicked one of the nearby crates angrily and several boxes toppled off it on to the floor.

"Oh", Heather groaned, kicking the boxes out of the way with her foot and wondering wither she should try to put them back.

She looked up, trying to guess how many she had knocked down, and found herself looking into a pair of blood shot green eyes.

She started until she realised that it was only her reflection, but that didn't settle her as it would most people, she had never been comfortable with mirrors, they made her feel like there was an impostor starring back at her, and in the poor light of the storage room, her reflection's hair looked much darker, emphasising the feeling.

As if this wasn't enough, whoever had left the mirror here had painted another of the symbols she had seen in the ladies room on it, though this time nothing happened when she looked at it.

Feeling the urge to leave the room as quickly as possible, she almost missed the note hastily tacked to the back of the door.

It read:

_Damn it, I dropped my key and can't reach it! I'll take care of the new books later; maybe the bakery has some tongs or something I can use to scoop them out_

Heather looked at the note in disbelief; it had just provided her the answer to what she was going to do next. There were too many strange coincidences today, all seemingly directed at her in some way.

* * *

The trip to the bakery took only a few minutes, but they were the most disturbing minutes of Heather's life to date, not only were there more of the monsters like the one she had seen in the clothes shop roaming around the sealed off halls of the mall proper, but everything was dirty and decayed, as if the mall had been closed for years not hours, as surely not half way decent manager would let the custodians slack off this badly.

The trip left her, when not huddling in darkened corners to escape the notice of the abominations that traipsed the shopping ring at will, or trying to figure out how to hold her gun in case one of them spotted her, feeling vaguely disconnected and abandoned, as if the normal life she had known was gone forever, not merely misplaced somehow…

She shut the bakery door quietly behind her and looked around, everything seemed normal if a little run down, and the tongs were behind the counter where you would expect to find them, so she grabbed them and made her skulking way back to the storage closet to retrieve the key.

* * *

She entered the room and felt almost instantly at ease, and couldn't place why until she saw that someone had been in here recently and shattered the mirror.

There were thousands of tiny pieces strewn across the floor, non large enough to cast a reflection, for which she was happy, even if it did mean she had to be careful not to cut herself while retrieving the key.

* * *

Heather slouched roughly down on the floor of the bookstore, blood covering her jacket from where the creature she had shot had sprayed her in its death throes.

She was lucky to be alive, the thing had made no noise as it approached, something that even after dealing with the one in the clothes store she had trouble believing for something that size. It had made only a faint scrapping noise as it closed on her from behind, extending one bone claw in morbid excitement for the kill.

She had shot it in the head, a lucky shot as she had tripped trying to get away from it as it pulverised a section of a steel shutter by where she had been standing, shooting it while it was trying to tear itself free with the rending shriek of tortured steel.

Heather had barely reined in the urge to scream when its blood covered her, and had failed to stop herself vomiting, wasting more time noisily wrenching while other things gathered in the shadows.

Heather grimaced as her nose took in the stench of her clothes and her empty stomach squeezed itself in a dry wrench. She crawled across the store, as if trying to escape the smell that followed effortlessly.

She hoped this nightmare was over soon.

She starred in angry disbelief at the electronic keypad in front of her. All of the other doors had either had keys of been left open, why had she been directed here if there was no way through?

Maybe she hadn't been, she was forced to consider, maybe she was just clinging to the vague hope that there was still logic and order in a world that now suddenly included such previous abstracts as monsters and religious madwomen, or perhaps she was just being egotistical to think that any of this had anything to do with her at all…

Or maybe she was still dreaming… yes, that would make more sense, but if so, then why couldn't she wake up?

Heather looked around, if this was a dream then surely something would appear to help her… all she could see was a box labelled 'New Delivery' with yesterdays date on the side.

…_I'll deal with the new books later…_

Heather peeled the sticky tape away from the box and inspected the contents, almost laughing at what she saw. Inside were a number of volumes of Shakespeare's master pieces, each with part of a message of some kind scrawled on the spines. Now she was convinced this was a dream, no one in real life write cryptic messages on book covers; it was like something from an old detective movie, which would certainly explain the old P.I hanging around waiting for her downstairs.

Once more satisfied that she had less to fear than she had previously thought, she set about cracking the 'puzzle' almost cheerfully, soon resolving it into the four digit code she knew must be for the lock.

* * *

Heather strafed the gun left and right outside the door, as if she actually knew what she was doing, once more thinking of this whole thing as a strange dream she was having, the fact that she had experienced pain was no surprise, as a little girl she had often had dreams where she was in a fire, and could still remember the pain as the flames licked higher and higher, they had faded in time, and she was glad they had never returned. In all she actually preferred this dream, at least she had some control here, and felt more connected to this dreamworld than the one of fire and pain that had haunted her as a child, despite the abundance of mirrors here.

Nothing came out of the faultlessly clean corridors many turns and twists to assault her, and Heather felt almost cheated, what was the point in realising you were dreaming if you didn't get to have some fun with that fact?

In the end all she found in this new hallway was a single service elevator. It _ping_ed open when she pressed the button and she unthinkingly selected the lowest floor, assuming that it would take her down to a ground floor exit where she could leave this dream behind.

Five minutes passed and still the elevator hummed its dutiful tune as it descended far past the point it should have stopped. Heather hit the STOP button but nothing happened. She hummed, checked her nails, anything she could think of to distract herself.

When she heard the static she felt sure she had imagined it to alleviate her concern and boredom. And when the pocket radio fell from the ceiling with a loud _clang_, she almost jumped out of her skin.

She picked it up and inspected it. It was only small, must have been lodged in the lighting fixture, but how, and by whom, she could guess. It was also clearly broken, it spat only static on all settings and refused to be quiet no matter what she did to the power and volume buttons.

Stuffing it into her pocket, she lent back against the wall to resume her wait, noticing the sudden lack of noise from the elevator's motor about the same time her back passed the point where the wall should have stopped it.

She flailed wildly as she fell through doors that shouldn't have been there and into a rusted steel cage.

Her head struck the floor and the world's colours inverted for a second as she blacked out. When she came too, the cage was rumbling as it descended, layers of rust and grime flaking off the dubiously constructed lift as she assumed it to be.

She staggered up right, gripping the bars for support… and screamed, throwing herself against the bars in search of a way out.

* * *

The lift descended through total darkness, save for the grim light of a number of alcoves, and in each of those alcoves was a new horror. In some woman were bound and gagged, screaming in agony and they were butchered by creatures to horrible to describe, in others creatures danced around wearing pieces of human flesh, committing unspeakable acts on themselves and the dead… and the final thing Heather saw, as she tucked her head between her legs to escape the images, was a tall, almost human figure, garbed in a burn plastic trench coat, starring at her expectantly with the one eye unaffected by the mass of scars that was its face, as if waiting for her to do something.

"This can't be a dream", Heather babbled, unaware of her tears, "Not even a child could believe this…"

* * *

The lift continued to descend, and as it passed out of sight, there was one thought in the creature who had watched her; _The chosen one… the Mother of God has returned…_

Author Notes: hopefully this hasn't put you all of reading anything else I write LOL, next chapter: The darker side of Dreams, will be available by the end of the month work load permitting, sayonara for now.


	3. Chapter 2: The Darker side of Dreams

Chapter Two: The darker side of Dreams

Heather was started when the elevator jolted to a halt and the rusty bars that kept her inside ground open with an ear piercing shriek that nothing, man nor monster could have failed to hear. She cowered against the foul smelling, rust covered bars, to afraid to move from the spot.

Outside the elevator, she could see little but darkness, broken only by vague and menacing shapes and the occasional sputter of light from a failing panel.

Wherever Heather was, be it some nightmare realm or the twisted confines of her own imagination, she could not have found herself in a worse place… alone, in the dark, danger everywhere…

She tried in vain to pierce the darkness, but it remained absolute. If this was a dream, as she was increasingly coming to doubt, then she no longer had any control over it.

Standing on pale and trembling legs, she moved cautiously to the exit and poked her head around, examining her blindness critically.

The darkness wasn't as complete as she feared, there was enough ambient light for her to make out some things, though her imagination filled each moment and every shadow with fantastic terrors.

It was as she was considering retreating into the elevator, that she spotted the light. It was blinking lazily, but strongly from around the corner of what she guessed was some sort of T-junction.

Her first impulse was to race toward it unheedingly, but even as she began to place her foot outside the safety of the elevator, something told her that wasn't a good idea. Every hair on her body seemed to stand at once, and she had the uncanny feeling that she was being watched.

Heather tried to figure out her options, she could wait here, and hope to avoid the attention of whatever was out there or she could make an active attempt to get to the light and with any luck, to safety before whatever might be out there could decide that she might be edible…

Holding her gun at her side, Heather strode out of the lift, looking neither left nor right, still keenly aware that she was being watched.

Her entire body trembled but she remained focused on the light ahead, blocking out the noises she heard around her, the shuffle of a phantom footstep, the wet tearing of flesh being rent in secret and the unintelligible growls that stalked her footfalls.

She was talking to herself quietly but she barely noticed and didn't care. All that mattered now was the light, the light meant safety, nothing existed but the light.

Something brushed past her leg, the feel of rotting flesh on her bare legs making her want to scream but she didn't, she remained focused.

There was a sudden guttural growl from behind her, and her head turned in reflex, eyes accustomed to the distant illumination now hopelessly maladjusted and lost.

The shadows rushed forward and Heather ran.

The light leapt forward to greet her as she powered around the bend, catching a brief glance of the mutilated, dog like creature to her right before instinctively choosing the opposite direction.

There was no time to try every door, so she just angled for the first opening she saw and slammed the door closed, sliding its deadbolt into place and back-pedalling more rapidly than her balance could cope with, earning many gouges from the shards of glass and wood splinters that littered the floor, all that remained of many of the rooms cabinets.

She incurred more as she continued to scramble back on hand and foot, her gaze locked on the door, until her back encountered cool, ungiving steel.

Her heart pin-balled around her chest as if it no longer deemed her a safe place to reside, and it didn't subside until she had spent minutes huddled there, bleeding from her many minor injuries, waiting for the flimsy door to be torn asunder by the things that had been chasing her.

Be it from blood loss or a level of panic her body couldn't cope with, Heather blacked out.

* * *

"_She is the one!"_

"_Maybe… but she's useless like this"_

"_Yes, but I have plans for her"_

"_I remember all to well how your plans turned out last time old woman"_

"_Bah! I was not ready, but this time my daughter will succeed, she has a… unique perspective that will be useful here"_

"_Maybe, but… she's here!"_

"_Yes! Come to me child, remember!"_

"_Stop you fool, the Master of Fate-"_

"_Is a mindless puppet of a system he cannot understand!"_

"_Perhaps, but he understands the rules that govern us if not her… besides, if all else fails, there is still the boy…"_

* * *

Heather woke instantly, fumbling blindly until her hand encountered something that gouged a fiery line across her palm.

She drew the dripping appendage up to her face as if offended that it would do something as mundane as bleed and tried to remember what had happened…

Her mind drew a complete blank. All she recalled was ducking into this room and tripping… She couldn't even recall for sure how or indeed when she had passed out.

Her wound was still steadily dripping and aching, reminding her that it was there and required her attention.

Heather stood, stretching muscles that seemed to have cramped all at once and looked around.

What she saw was so ironic it actually made her snort with somewhat cynical laughter, she had cut herself in what seemed to be an infirmary. The traditional red cross was emblazoned in fading glory on every bit of glass that remained intact and there was even a wheeled stretcher/bed, the thing she was currently leaning against, though it looked as if someone had given birth on it and it had never been replaced since. The blood looked almost… fresh…

Heather moved away with as much hast and dignity as she could manage, crunching already broken glass underfoot as she began a careful search for something to bandage her still weeping hand.

Most of the cupboards were bare, and those that weren't only had age rotted scraps of what once might have been bandages, and a few bottles of various evil looking fluids.

Eventually she found a scrap long enough to suit her purpose and bound her hand quietly, trying not to think about how filthy the room and cupboards were, and how that might affect her chances of getting an infection of some sort.

Not satisfied, but no longer openly bleeding, she paced the room, allowing her mind to run down her 'plan of action' hence forth.

'Leave the room, run around aimlessly until one of those things finds you, then die'…. Not an inspiring train of thought.

Lost in trying to find scenarios that didn't end this way, or at least ones that put more steps in the way of that final one, she didn't really notice what she was starring at until she found herself tracing the edges of the symbol with her eyes.

Each time she had seen this symbol previously it had denoted something terrible, and yet she could look away, there was such a familiarity in the complex drawing that it held her gaze, she had definitely seen it before, but where…

* * *

Douglas paced the main hall of the mall impatiently, he had waited a whole hour for that girl before realising the obvious and sticking his head in ladies room to confirm.

Exactly as he had expected, no Ms.Mason and one empty bathroom with an open window mocking him with an inanimate grin.

A trusting nature was not beneficial to a private detective, quite the opposite in fact as someone had once pointed out to him long ago…

The age worn man shrugged off those old memories and the personal demons that lumbered after them, he still had a job to do. If that map he had, _ahem_, appropriated, from the employee lounge was anything to go by, there was no way Heather could have gotten out by simply hoping out the window, there was simply nowhere for her to go but back inside, back into the service hallways that ran through every part of the mall.

At which point logic dictated she would have been apprehended by mall security and deposited at the nearest security office.

Following this train of thought Douglas had gone to one of these stations, intending to make inquires about her, perhaps hinting that she was a shoplifter or a mentally deficient ward who had wondered away, if his read on the girl was anything to go by she was probably stubborn enough to simply not have answered any questions they would have tried to ask her, making it easier for him to pull his little deception, he had been given enough of her background information to pass as her guardian with ease.

However, when he had arrived he had found the station deserted. Not any real issue, there were so many that not all of them needed to be manned every second, he had just gone to the next.

Again, deserted, as were the three after that. In fact, as he was becoming disturbingly aware, there didn't seem to be anyone in the mall at all. That confused him, it had been late when he had finally found her, but not enough for an hour or so to see everyone packed up and gone, especially not without a closing announcement and at least one sweep by security.

However little sense it seemed to make, it appeared that everyone had vanished while he was distracted.

'I can't be getting so old that I failed to notice some two hundred odd employees leaving for the night', he thought with an irritable shake of the head.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted something moving, but it vanished around a bend as he turned to regard it.

"Hello?", he called out… no response.

Maybe he was seeing things, after all, he hadn't heard anything, an impossibility in this buildings eerie silence, maybe there hadn't been anyone there.

Then again… moving with a grace that belied his growing girth, Douglas moved to the intersection where he had thought he'd seen the figure, finding his hand reaching under his trench-coat for the pistol he kept hidden there, just in case.

Douglas rounded the corner just as his hand established a firm grip on the pistol. A good thing to, it probably saved his life…

* * *

Heather watched as the Closer moved away in impossible silence, attracted to the noise of the can she had thrown, it, and the two other silent killers like it, were drawn to the new noise, not paying any attention to the unmoving shadow that was Heather Mason.

As much as she loathed the dark, it was fast becoming her only ally in this twisted nightmare dimension, although considering her foes lack of visible eyes, it might just have been wishful thinking.

She snuck on ahead, something about the place she now found herself in playing at the back of her mind.

It wasn't until she passed the severely out of order pay phones that in clicked. She was back where she started, or more specifically, back where all this had started, with the appearance of that creepy old detective. Heather's remaining doubts about him vanished, he had to have something to do with this, it was too big of a coincidence otherwise.

She checked each door she passed, always glancing back to make sure she hadn't picked up a silent pursuer before and after she tried the handle.

As was almost becoming the norm, only one door opened, allowing her into an employee storeroom, a class of room she was rapidly becoming disdainful of.

Light dazzled her as she opened the door, but she retained enough sense of mind to close the door behind her. In the near perfect darkness of the mall, any light would attract unwanted attention.

When her eyes finally adjusted to the sudden intrusion of light that required they actually work once more as they would normally, she saw that the light was actually much smaller, and nowhere near as bright as she had thought. In fact it came from a small pocket torch, standing alone on one of the room's empty steel shelves.

Heather picked it up, wondering who had left it there, these things were notoriously short on battery life, so someone would have had to have been here pretty recently for it to still be working.

'So… that means I'm not alone here', Heather thought, a smile creeping on to her face, there were actually other people, or rather, at least one other person, wondering around out there, as lost and probably as scared as she was.

Heather dawdled for a moment, unsure wither to turn the torch off and pocket it, or to pin it to her vest. She desperately wanted the comfort of the light, but didn't want to be walking around with what would amount to a homing beacon stuck to her chest.

In the end she compromised, pining the torch to her jacket but switching it off first.

When she was sure her eyes had adjusted properly again, she opened the door to the storage room and checked outside… the hall was still empty.

Another few minutes of searching confirmed that the rest of the doors in this hallway were locked or otherwise inaccessible. This cause Heather to pause, where else was there to go if she couldn't go on any further?

There was a slow creaking noise from behind her, and Heather spun just in time to see the door leading to the ladies room swing lazily open.

'That door was locked', she thought even as she began moving toward it, 'I'm sure it was'.

Heather ducked inside and was hit with an almost physical wall of stench, as if all the pipes in the public bathroom and simultaneously burst, and spewed their feted contents all over the floors.

Like everything here there was decay and what Heather _consciously_ called rust covering every surface, and the room was lit solely by a sputtering street lamp, somewhere beyond the bar covered windows.

'Bars?', she thought, 'How can there be bars? I climbed through there only a few hours ago'

Heather reluctantly scoped out the rest of the rotting restroom, scenes from every horror movie she had ever watched playing on a continuous loop in the back of her mind… wasn't it about now that the young heroine found something truly horrendous…

The blond squashed that thought ruthlessly even as she saw the stall begin to swing open, gripping her gun tighter and pointing it at the stall as if to ward off whatever might try to emerge.

Nothing was there however, or rather, nothing living. Torn shreds of what might once have been human flesh covered every inch of the stall, and tiny groves, possibly made by scrabbling fingernails covered much of the wooden walls where gore failed to prevail.

Heather backed away, her eyes widening and pain growing in her mouth as she slowly bit through her own lip to stop herself screaming.

She stumbled out of the bathroom dry heaving and force to use the wall for support as she moved.

The shutter in front of her, previously sealed, had been wrenched upwards, not prised or jacked, but wrenched, the lower section bent in the middle as is something had simply grabbed hold and torn it free of the locks that held it in place.

In her current state, Heather didn't question how this had been done in complete silence with her mere meters from the shutter, nor did she really register the faint crimson stain that she passed over to duck under the ruined shutter, like some gory arrow.

_The crimson path_, a voice at the back of her mind whispered, full of fear respect and… sorrow?

* * *

Heather wondered on autopilot while trying to quell her rebellious stomach, instinctively seeking the nearest open door and the comparative safety of 'shelter'.

When her stomach finally consented not to empty its contents over her boots, she looked around, not immediately recognising the clothes store she had been in only hours before. Indeed it was hard to tell what this store had been used for, it was empty save for the _usual_ array of gore and decay, the only thing that hinted at the original purpose of the store was the single clothes rack that remained.

Heather looked over the only two thing present that didn't seem to have rotted away to nothing… a rather frumpy in her opinion, floral print dress and matching peach cardigan.

She was about to leave again when she spotted the third 'item', pinned to an unused wire hangar, was a leaflet advertising the Happy Burger. Heather removed it from the rack, turning it over and scanning the leaflet for anything else… she wasn't disappointed:

_Ascend from the masses… the mighty use the simplest tools_

It was vague on purpose but clear on destination, just like every other 'clue' she had found. Who ever the sick bastard was who was causing all of this he sure enjoyed his little games, and liked to make sure his 'puppets' stuck to the routes he had lain out.

Heather briefly considered ignoring the clue, but quickly disregarded the idea. She was dealing with someone or something that could twist reality to its will, if playing this stupid game was what she had to do to escape, then that's what she would do.

* * *

Douglas was panting and out of breath when he came upon the hole. Blood covered his rumpled shirt and every breath was agony. He had spent the last of his ammo a long time ago trying to take down those unholy creatures with little success. He caught himself just before toppling into the abyss that seemed to have opened while he wasn't looking, a deep hole that seemed to have been gouged right through every floor of the mall, ending just perceptibly somewhere bellow it's basement as a sand filled crater.

'What the hell is going on with this place', he thought bewildered, monsters, strange holes, blood everywhere, it was like some sort of twisted fairytale come to life.

Douglas glanced back into the hole, trying to fathom its purpose seeing as it's reason for existing eluded him right now, catching movement from the corner of his eye.

The old detective squinted, trying to focus his slowly fading vision on what had caused the movement, his eyes sighting on a flash of white as a torch was lit somewhere down below… the white of a padded jacket.

Douglas made to open his mouth to shout out when all hell suddenly broke loose.

* * *

Heather stood regarding the ladder dubiously. She had arrived in the Happy Burger with little or no resistance, only being forced to fire a few discouraging shots at a lone dog creature that took more of an interest in her than was healthy. Upon gaining the relative security of the run down, greasier than usual establishment she had been forced to turn on her appropriated torch out of necessity. Heather had worried about this until it became apparent that the same filth than blocked all outside light also worked to keep her torchlight from any roving monstrosity that might be passing.

Having turned on the light Heather had almost wished she hadn't, it instantly cast shadows across everything it touched, each shadow moving in time with her breathing as the rise and fall of her chest moved the torch. This gave the impression that she was far from alone in the room, but faced with purposely depriving herself of the light when she had a choice her fear of the dark, though less influential now, won out, and she opted to put up with the mildly disturbing shadow-play.

The ladder had been rather jarringly obvious, seeing as a table had been placed directly beneath it, as if the casual passer-by could fail to notice the gaping hole in the ceiling, or the rusty metal rungs that hung down from said hole.

Using the coat hanger she had been, more or less, given, she had been able to pull the ladder down to the accompaniment of several surprisingly loud groans of steel on steel considering the ease with which the ladder moved.

Heather cast one last look around the empty room and set one foot on the first rung. She took a moment to question if going up was the best option.

'I went down a long way in that elevator', she thought, trying to make the following process seem perfectly logical to assuage her concerns, 'So… I _have_ to go up… right?'

Still unsure, Heather climbed higher, her heart _thudding_ almost as loud as the resounding _clang_ each boot made on the steel rungs.

She reached the top with startling swiftness, and poked her head over the lip of the hole and looked around.

To her right and left, just a little way ahead came the familiar drone of escalators, each ascending or descending away from the stark corridor whose floor was currently at face level with her.

There was also another noise, the static hiss of white noise. A quick and panicked scan revealed no sign of any monsters, and after pulling herself up to sit on the ledge, pistol in hand, a check revealed that her pocket radio was completely dormant as well.

The source of the static turned out to be a bank of TV's, sitting in the shattered remains of a shop window, as if crying out to be rescued before whoever had done the damage returned.

Heather strode over to them, ignoring the escalators for the moment and poked a hand through the jagged remains of the storefront display window, tapping buttons. No effect, every screen continued to spit out only snow and a blanket of noise, even when she turned them off.

Heather bent closer squinting at the screens, trying to will them to do something other than assail her with this irritating noise.

For a second it seemed she succeed, she began to make out the faint outline of someone… a woman, She had a red cardigan on over some sort of uniform. The woman looked up at her, her eyes widening in shock and recognition, as if she in turn could see Heather. Suddenly the screens were filled by a pair of dark eyes framed by raven hair.

"_This is not for you"_, a voice echoed, seemingly from around her, not coming just from the speakers. Heather reared back in shock, split seconds before the screen in front of her exploded, gashing her cheek as shards of glass flew past at high velocity.

Heather cupped her cheek with a trembling hand, watching in horror as the image dissolved back to static, static over lain with the symbol she had seen so many times already.

Heather backed away shaking, had she been closer, those shards might have gone through her eyes instead of just gouging her cheek.

The symbol hovered over her in digital menace, somehow still looking just as intimidating even incomplete due to the missing screen.

_

* * *

This is not for you, that message echoed back through her mind, the voice had been angry that was true, but it hadn't seemed to be directed at her._

Heather wasted no time, eager once more to be as far from that symbol as possible she all but ran for the nearest of the escalators, the one leading her up further into this twisted maze.

Reach the top she was immediately forced to open fire as something soundless loomed up over her, catching the Closer faster than it could unsheathe it's bone spikes in her adrenaline fuelled state and introducing a variety of its organs to hot lead before it dropped, making the only noise these creatures ever seemed to make.

She headed straight at the first door she saw in the torch's limited arc and lashed a foot out at it, hoping adrenaline had done for her muscles what it had done for her reflexes… it hadn't, and she was deposited on her rear by the offended door for her efforts.

She was up again quickly, this time trying the door again in the more conventional fashion, in other words the handle. The door gave a rattle that told her it was locked and planned to stay that way.

Heather considered shooting the lock, cops did it all the time on TV, but she had no idea where to shoot and might just end up wasting her ammo, not to mention the noise…

Offering up a little curse she backtracked, searching the other doors until she found one that would open for her.

Inside was such a change from her usual experience here, that she was momentarily struck dumb.

Every part of the building was tastefully decorated in reds, golds and subtle natural wood colours, giving everywhere an air of sophistication that would have seemed out of place in any mall let alone one recently converted to serve the purpose of 'demonic labyrinth'.

Small groups of tables were gathered here and there in an informal fashion, to create an relaxed air of quiet intimacy.

As awaiting that moment to push Heather over the edge the smell drifted over, not hit, or assaulted her as everything had since she had found herself here, but wafted, gently tickling her nostrils with the most delectable sensations.

It didn't take long for her to track in across the room to the large silver serving tray, complete with silver cover that was the only no standard décor at any of the tables.

Heather's stomach growled loudly, as if she hadn't eaten in days rather than hours and she was having a hard time no salivating at the wonderful smell.

Deciding that no one was likely to miss whatever culinary delight might be lurking under that cover, Heather pulled it aside eagerly, and felt her stomach lurch violently as the steam parted, allowing her a clear view of her 'meal'.

Back arched and face stretched in a rictus of pain, as if it had still been alive when cooked, was a smallish dog.

Protruding from its chest was a carving knife, used to pin yet another note in place:

_Getting to the **heart** of the matter…_

With that it ended and Heather couldn't help but shudder at the obvious implications of the note. Something was buried inside that dog's chest, something she would probably need to go on any further.

Heather pulled a variety of disgusted faces as she grasped the knife, dry wrenching even before she began the first sawing motion.

Turning her head aside, Heather reached into the newly sawn cavity and felt around, wincing every time her hand came into contact with the creatures rotting organs.

Suddenly her hand brushed something hard and metallic, and she reached back, clasping her hand around it and yanking it clear with a minor eruption of gore.

Heather held her prize aloft victoriously her arm caked up to the elbow in entrails… and then vomited over the table.

* * *

Still a little woozy, Heather stumbled through the door she had unlocked with the new found key, suddenly finding herself on a very narrow path.

Heather looked in confusion over the edge and her already spinning head swam as the seemingly bottomless void started back at her unblinkingly.

She dropped to her knees and crawled, not wanting to risk falling, but not to rest either.

Heather had had enough, she just wanted to go back home.

"Just let me out already", she whimpered

The top rungs of a ladder homed into her view as she crawled, ladders leading once more back down. Heather whimpered again, but gripped the bars and began her descent mechanically. Why couldn't this all just end already? How many times would she be dragged through this?

Heather reached the bottom and slumped soundlessly against a wall nearby, not knowing why the floor was covered in sand, and not caring, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep right there and then… Suddenly the ground lurched, throwing her forward, even the earth itself it seemed wasn't going to let her rest.

Heather stood warily, pulling out her torch and gun and playing both around the chamber.

The area was covered with holes and tunnels at the edges, that was the first thing she noticed, like the hive of some giant insect.

There was a noise to her right, a bass rumbling growing rapidly louder, and Heather spun just as something exploded from one of the tunnels near her.

It was gargantuan in size, the length and breath of a single level bus at least, a uniform, streamlined body of purple, tipped by a massive maw of teeth that opened away from its head in four directions at once.

The thing, the worm, crashed to a halt on the other side of the room, slithering around to face her, it's 'face' dripping unspeakable fluids everywhere.

Somewhere in the back of Heather's mind someone screamed, or maybe it was her, she couldn't tell over the din as the creature let loose its own roar and charged.

Heather barely scrambled aside as the monster slammed into the wall she had previously been resting against, jarring the ladder, her only means of escape, loose from the wall.

The steel construct swung down in one final gravity assisted blow, impacting its 'killer' solidly, but only seeming to enrage the beast as it proceeded to rend steel like paper with its massive maw.

Heather backed away while it spent its fury, looking around frantically for any way to escape but finding none, she was trapped down here with this thing.

It looked like she was getting her wish, she was being 'let go'.

Heather clutched at her gun, not knowing how many bullets she had left, or indeed how they could succeed in killing anything so massive.

Done with its first victim the creature turned quickly, searching for her and without any cover, spotting her easily.

Again it charged and again Heather jumped aside just in time, narrowly avoiding its razor edged teeth as it sailed past her, this time veering off with incredible agility and disappearing into one of the tunnels that honeycombed the outer edges of the chamber.

Had its agility not been another thing that increased the already high likelihood of it killing her, Heather might have been impressed, especially considering its bulk.

It emerged again bare moments later, somehow from a passage behind her, its four jaws opened wide to catch her.

There was another scream, definitely Heathers this time, and she levelled her gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet tore into the sensitive flesh of its mouth and the worm roared in pain, instinctively baring away from her and retreating into the safety of its tunnels.

Heather panted deeply. 'Is it over already', she wondered hopefully.

Another roar and a charge answered her unspoken question seconds later and this time the beast kept coming even when shot, ripping deep gouges into her side as she tried to roll out of the way, before once again ducking back into the safety of its tunnels.

Suppressed tears welled in Heathers eyes, and she cried out as she dragged herself away from the tunnels, the blazing agony in her side making every movement slow and painful.

She waited for the creature to emerge again, blood and sweat making her grip on her gun suddenly fragile, she was going to die next time it emerged, she had no doubts now, but she wasn't going to make it easy.

The ground under her rumbled and Heather rolled away, screaming as sand was ground into her wounds.

The worm burst through the sand, jaws snapping at empty air, and it let out a roar of frustration , rearing up to look down on her prone form as Heather raised her gun.

Fear weakened her already loose grip, fear of dying, fear of the worm.

"I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid", she chanted out loud, tears running down her face openly now.

As if angered by her statement the worm opened its maw and roared.

Heather screamed back, releasing all of her fear and anger as she pulled the trigger over and over, each round slamming up through the beasts cranium at a new angle, each one shredding more of its brain.

Heather screamed until she had no voice left, not noticing until her voice failed that the worm no longer screamed with her.

The giant creature lolled forward as if it meant to crush her and she cringed.

It rolled to the side as it fell, missing her by about a meter, but the shockwave was more than enough to carry her up and away from, the body, flinging her down roughly on her injured side.

Heather had no voice left to scream, all she could do was lay there and pant, tears blinding her as her life's blood streamed out of the gashes in her side.

Somewhere amongst the pain and relief, just before oblivion reached out to claim her, she thought she heard a voice whispering to itself.

"_Maybe it would be better this way…"_

Then the darkness claimed her.

* * *

The tall humanoid looked at the worm monster curiously, it was familiar with all manner of void spawned beast, but this was foreign to it. That had only happened once before.

Valdet turned its scarred face upon the human girl lying unconscious, maybe dead a few feet away and scrutinized her with its _sight_.

The girl's image seemed to waver, almost as if Valdet was seeing double for a second, to images of the same girl slightly over laid… No, it corrected itself, not the same…

Valdet frowned, it couldn't read her, her line was confused, sometimes running _backwards_ or in impossible directions.

It couldn't understand, did this mean the Mother of God had returned or not? Or had she never left. Valdet, wondered over to the girl and stood over her. What was it supposed to do, the rules didn't cover this situation, and Valdet had only limited free-will by its design, enough to think within the rules but not well around them.

Should it let her die?

Decisions… no, it would do as it always did, let chance decide, most of fate was after all merely chance and circumstance.

First it would remove her from this place, the rules didn't seem to work here properly, most likely what its creator had hoped to achieve, a repeat of last time… after she was back in a place it understood, then it would decide what to do about her life.

Grasping one booted foot in each burnt hand, it dragged her away into the darkness.

* * *

Author Notes: There we are my friends, a long time coming but at last, a new chapter, hu-zar! LOL, I hoped you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it, the next instalment will be chapter 3: _Loco_-motion, no prizes for guessing where that takes place lol

Also there are a number of easter eggs hidden in this chapter, see if you can spot them, e-mail me with your answers and expect many more in the future

Finally a few shout outs:

Kelli: Thanks for all the reviews, help and encouragement, I've done the same for your DOOM fic, so all you guys reading check that out, the girls got skills, and good luck writing and controlling your new little friend lol

Ernst Scribber: again, thanks for your adivse and e-mails etc

If I forgot anyone I apologise in advance, just e-mail me a reminder and I'll be sure to include something

Until the next chapter, sayonara…


	4. Chapter 3: Locomotion

**This is just a teaser for chapter 3, the full version will be available later, feel free to review the teaser in the meantime**

Chapter 3: _Loco_-motion

Douglas blinked in confusion, one minute he had been starring out over some impossible hole, trying to find a way down to the girl, Heather, as she had fought for her life against some sort of monster movie reject, the next he had been grabbed by something and then… then it was all a blur until 'waking up' here, at the mall exit, no one for company but the looped ambience track the complex played as a 'shopping aid'.

Even stranger, there was no sign of the insidious decay that had seemed to spring out of the walls in the corners of your eye, so that you couldn't say for sure whether it had always been there, or snaked out in a moment of distraction.

All the lights were on and functioning and a quick test had shown that the doors were still open and working, so he could leave at any time… but what about the girl? The one he had been sent to find, where was she, had she died fighting that thing, or was she too somewhere in the restored mall, perhaps even more dazed and confused than he was… and more importantly, did he really want to stick around to find out?

Douglas glanced back down the main corridor, at all the closed stores and those still dimly lit indicating that there were still perhaps people in there, closing up for the day as if nothing had ever happened.

He took off his hat and ran a hand through his thinning grey hair, Douglas liked to think himself an honourable man, but this job wasn't paying nearly enough for this kind of weird shit.

Whoever wanted this girl they were going to have to do without his help.

"Leaving already detective?"

* * *

Heather woke slowly, almost peacefully, like she had just settled down to take a quiet nap, and was just rousing after an uninterrupted sleep. The plain wooden bench beneath her wasn't exactly a mattress, but it was well designed enough not to be uncomfortable, and at that moment she had the overwhelming urge to lay her head back down and sleep. Indeed something told her that would be infinitely better than waking up, but she was used to that feeling from numerous tardy slips it had earned her over the years, and so she mentally shrugged it aside and allowed her mind to grasp at its most recent memories for orientation. 

Her next response was more in keeping with her current experiences, she sat bolt upright instantly, awake in seconds and pulled up her jacket and top so that she could see her side.

The skin was smooth and unblemished, not a trace of the wound the spilt-worm had inflicted on her before she had finally killed it, in fact, there wasn't a sign that any of her ordeal had ever occurred, all her cuts and bruises were gone, the blood and grime that had covered her clothes was missing, even her hair seemed to have been neatly rearranged as she remembered it.

And there was no sign of the gun which had saved her life.

Heather leant back against the bench and sighed thankfully, whatever had happened to her it was over now, and for all intents and purposes might never of happened. She would have preferred to think this, only the location in which she had awoken prevented it, but that didn't really matter anymore, it was over and she could go home at last.

Heather grinned happily and stood, bathing in the sounds around her, the corny ambience track, the gurgle of the water fountain behind her, the quiet chime of the clock as it chimed ten o'clock…

'Ten o'clock?', she thought, frowning as the implications of this wormed their way into her mind, 'Oh crap, dad!'.

When she had phoned her father it had only been six or so, even in bad traffic the bus she had been planning to catch home would have dropped her off hours ago, and her father tended to panic when she was only a few _minutes_ late, never mind a few hours.

The buses had probably stopped now, so she'd have to try the subway instead, it was either that or walk and it was Heather's belief that no sane young woman walked around alone at night when there was another option.

Quickly orientating herself, Heather set off in the direction of the subway access point located by the mall's exit, muttering unhappily to herself as she went.

Lost in thought she almost shrieked when Douglas stepped out from around the entrance to the subway as she was about to reach it.

"Heather?", he said somewhere between relieved and surprised.

"Ugh, not you again", she hissed irritably and with an edge of anger, she still blamed him for starting her little nightmare, although how any person could have caused _that_, was beyond her.

"Heather stop", he said, catching her arm as she walked by, "What the hell is going on here? That monster…"

"Monster, I knew it! You are in on all this! Let go of me, you're probably helping that crazy witch lady!", she shouted, yanking her arm away and rubbing at it in disgust.

"Witch lady? What the hell are you talking about? Look, don't you think it would be a good idea to stick together here, we still don't know what the hell happened", he said, glancing around nervously as if expecting the worst at that very moment.

"Do what ever you want", she said over her shoulder as she walked towards the subway entrance, "I'm going home, and you better not follow me".

Douglas watched her disappear down the steps into the subway, and shuck his head cursing softly. He didn't know what was going on here, but he couldn't let that mule-headed girl walk blindly into it alone.

* * *

Heather walked at a brisk pace down the cheerfully lit tiled corridors of the subway, grumbling to herself about being late and occasionally looking back to make sure that 'detective' wasn't following her. 

There were a number of neon lit advertisements on either side of her but she paid them no mind although usually she would stop to check out the new movie releases.

Only one caught her eye anyway, and all she really caught was the name, 'Centura', before she had passed it by as well.

Heather whistled softly to herself as she made her way through a number of corridors, her tune slowing every time she passed a locked entrance before suddenly picking up with renewed vigour.

Slow she began to realise that she could no longer hear anything, no trains, no cars, no people….

'It's ok' she told herself, 'it's late and this stations never busy anyway'

Still it came as a relief when she finally reached the terminal map that would direct her to the Bergen Street Train at Platform 3, she didn't need it of course, but seeing it there buzzing away happily took away some of her mounting anxiety, everything seemed to be working, it was just a little quiet, no need to panic.

Heather arrived at the turnstile and was only mildly surprised to find no one at the ticket booth. No big deal, a few minutes later she had purchased a ticket from the recently installed self-service machines and was sitting on a bench to pass the time as the ticket informed her she was in for at least an hours wait for the next train.

Unfortunately this soon became irritating for the blond hair teen. She was an active person by nature, and didn't do well waiting with nothing to do.

Spotting a discarded newspaper on the other end of the bench she scooped it up without a second thought and opened it to a random page.

**Subway death!**

The title of the article leapt out at her and she let out a nervous laugh. Someone up there really had it in for her it seemed. Reading on the article detailed the suicide of a local man, reported to have been seen hanging nervously around the fourth platform of the Hazel Street station and…

Heather re-read the last part to ensure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. No, there had been a suicide in this station. Heather really wasn't sure what she felt at that moment, she just hoped that the man stayed dead, a cruel thought perhaps but after her recent little trip it made a kind of sense.

Heather closed the paper again, hoping that the front page would have something less morbid on it.  
Indeed it did, the latest political ramblings in fact… that is to say the latest from nearly six months ago according to the date at the top of the paper.

Heather threw the paper down in disgust, just her luck, there would be nothing new or interesting in that paper.

Heather glanced at her watch, still over forty minutes to go.

Getting up Heather began to pace irritably, thus distracted she didn't notice when the first light began to flicker.

When it exploded with a loud pop however it caught her attention, followed rapidly by the distressed flickering of its immediate neighbours.

Two more went the way of their late companion, triggering the destruction of adjoining lights as they died.

"No, no ,no ,no", Heather breathed as the encroaching wave of darkness drew nearer with each neon passing. This couldn't be happening, not again.

Heather backed against the turnstile as the lights began to explode more frequently and with increasing violence, spraying glass in all directions.

The blond teen all but vaulted over the steel barrier, the darkness picking up it's pace to match her.

Unbeknownst to her it stopped at the turnstile as soon as she was out of sight, light suddenly flooding the room from impossibly repaired fixtures, a deep brooding silence descending on the waiting area…

* * *

Heather kept running until she found herself in the nexus area, the large squat room that led to each of the stations many platforms. 

She slowed only long enough to find the sign telling her which staircase to take to get to platform 3 and bolted down it like a woman possessed, tripping at the first landing slamming violently into the opposing wall.

Heather let out a cry that was equal parts pain and frustration. She felt herself sliding down to the floor, when the lights at the top of the stairs began to flicker, a low growl echoing from every direction at once.

Pulled upright by her now familiar friend, adrenaline, the blond darted right, leaping stairs three at a time to reach platform 3, no mean feat in modestly heeled boots.

Leaping the last few stairs, Heather stumbled before regaining her footing and nearly lost it again when she tried to turn and back at the stairs while moving.

Eventually protesting leg muscles forced her to a halt on a nearby bench, and she sat, head between her knees, panting heavily.

'Why me', she mentally lamented, 'What the hell did I do to deserve this?'

Heather leant back on the bench and rubbed her throbbing temples. Opening one eye to the semi-darkness of the waiting platform around her Heather took a cautious survey of the area around her.

As she had feared she could see no one on either this platform or platform 4 in the distance, and the only sounds that echoed around the cavernous room where those she herself produced. Just like the mall before everything had begun to change.

Heather let her head loll to one side, hoping against hope that this was all just a coincidence, that her train would pull up any second now and carry her away from this recurring, waking nightmare.

What she found instead was a gun.

More specifically, her gun, or at least the one she had found in the mall, it was slick with a mix of purple and red blood, giving it a grotesque sheen. There were to clips lying next to it, lacking similar decoration.

Heather looked around. She was sure that the gun hadn't been there before, and there was no one in sight who could have retrieved it from the pit she had left it in along with the dead worm.

It had vanished along with all her wounds, so what was it doing here?

Picking it up awkwardly, trying to avoid touching the blood that seemed to coat most of its surface, turned it over and over, as if seeking an explanation from the weapon.

If it had one it dined to give it.

'So its all starting again' Heather thought sadly, 'I went through all that, killed that monster and I'm back here again!'

There was more anger in her thoughts now, this was not how such things were supposed to go, she should have been free to go about her life after escaping that nightmare shouldn't she? That was what happened in films and stories, so why had she been brought back? Had she performed _too_ well perhaps…

"I got out of this once, I can do it again", she said, surprised by how confident she sounded. Loading one clip into the handgun and stuffing another into her pocket Heather thought back to everything she had seen recently. If this was like last time she would have been given a clue of what she had to do to progress. The first thing that came to mind was the newspaper article. _Suicide…Platform 4_

Heather was forced to remember her earlier thoughts, and prayed she hadn't inadvertently jinxed herself.

Standing, Heather was made painfully aware of something else that had returned along with the gun.

She lifted her top and found herself starring at a line of inflamed flesh along her side, where the worm had caught her previously. The skin looked barely healed and likely to split if strained too much.

'I get it', Heather thought, hissing as the cloth of her top rubbed the scar on its way down, 'I beat you, so now I have to play with a handicap'.

Getting a firm grip on the slippery gun and experimenting as she moved, trying to find out how to least aggravate her side, Heather was half-way to the stairs when the lights suddenly blacked out.

Before she could panic a light snapped on, emanating from the front of her jacket. Her flashlight was back, snapped in place exactly as it had been before her encounter with the split-worm.

Heather made her way cautiously back up to the landing area, ears alert for any sign of the monsters that had infested the mall, and constantly checking behind her, half expecting to find a Closer poised and ready to strike.

The landing came and passed without incident, and Heather paused at the base of the stairs to platform 4. There had been a low growl from somewhere nearby, not like the one she had heard earlier, no, this was more like that given of by the dog-like creatures she had encountered earlier.

Heather leant carefully around the corner of the stairwell entrance, her light showing nothing more than a few metres away. In the distance, at the other end of the platform one of the emergency lamps seemed to be working still, shading the spot it illuminated in a harsh red glow.

'Red marks the spot', Heather thought mirthlessly, not even registering her internal pun.

She stepped swiftly around the corner and made her way toward the light at a light jog, she knew better than to linger in the darkness under the circumstances.

Another growl.

Heather spun quickly, wincing at the pain caused in her side and played the light behind her, gun arm sweeping in the same direction.

Nothing.

Heather waited a few more seconds before resuming her jog toward the lit area, hearing no more growls before she reached it.

She began searching every inch of illuminated space, finding nothing obvious from casual observation.

There was nothing, she had looked over every spec of visible ground and there was nothing to be found. Then why had she been led here?

She turned to leave when something bloody and trailing bandages lunged from the darkness. Instinctively Heather through up her arm to defend herself, and screamed as the powerful jaws of the double headed canine closed around her forearm as its full weight slammed her to the ground.

Heather screamed as it dug its claws into her shoulders while savaging her pale appendage. With an incoherent cry of rage she jammed the barrel of her gun into its temple and pulled the trigger, showing herself and its second head with gore. The monster roared in pain and confusion as the right-hand side of its body went limp, a noise promptly stopped by two more shots from Heather's new best friend.

The blond scrambled at the dead weight of the beast, quivering muscles barely able to heave it off her and move herself a barely satisfactory distance from the corpse.

Heather dragged herself upright again, eying the dead animal with open distain. "Is that the best you've got!", she shouted, her eyes probing the darkness around her as her body slowly began to shiver, the adrenaline rush fleeing her body.

In hindsight she would realise the folly of her challenge.

Heather took a deep breath, preparing another tirade, when something unseen shoved her roughly from the side.

Balance lost, and surprise locking her reactions, Heather stumbled towards the tracks. Her arms flailed widely, only succeeding in turning her way from the tracks as her heel caught on the edge of the platform.

As she fell Heather heard the ear splitting blare of an air horn, as a tiny light appeared in the darkness.

The train was here.

* * *

Douglas scanned the waiting room from where he crouched in the shadows of the corridor, only standing when he was certain that Heather wasn't present. 

The waiting room was completely empty.

All things considered this understandably did not sit well with the private detective. Subways always had someone in them, no matter the time of day, but Douglas hadn't seen so much as a street punk loitering in the halls.

The grey haired man made his way over towards the ticket booth, already knowing no one would be there, when something crunched underfoot.

Douglas lifted his shoe and starred at the shattered glass beneath it. His eyes were still keen enough to see that it was too fine to have come from a bottle, and the shards weren't shaped right for that either.

He glanced up, shielding his eyes against the indifferent glare of the lights overhead. None of them seemed to be broken, perhaps one had fallen down and been replaced recently, but why was the glass still there?

* * *

**Coopland:** Here you go, sorry this isn't a full chapter, but between this, Uni, coursework, other fanfics and the manga/webcomic I'm trying to start, this has become a low priority as of late, but the full version and other chapters should be up soon 

**Heartilly:** Glad I could help, definitely recommend buying SH2/3

**Earl McFlanders:** Thanks for your support

**J Warren:** I'm happy to hear that, it was my intention that this story be enjoyable to those unfamiliar with it or it's background, as well as fans of the game. I probably won't write anymore SH fics, although there is a shortish SH story I have floating around in my head called "Crown of Thorns", which may or may not be written down, depending on how long this fic takes to complete

To be continued soon 21/11/05


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